


Painting

by thelolbells



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boyfriends Being Cute, Fluff, M/M, fluffy fluff, so so cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7307593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelolbells/pseuds/thelolbells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff in which PJ is a nice boyfriend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting

PJ slowly opens his eyes, his alarm waking him up. He picks up his phone and switches it on to see the time. The bright screen blinds PJ for a few seconds as he squints to look.

_8:00AM._

He frowns, unsure as to why he’s awake this early –

_early for me, anyway,_ he thinks.

He looks over next to him to find a sleeping Chris lying face-first into his pillow, his soft snores the only noise in the jointly owned room.

_Ah, he thinks, that’s why I’m awake._

Today found itself to be the day of Chris’s birthday. Normally, birthdays were not a big thing in the household. Chris never really found a cause to celebrate them, and PJ didn’t like all the undivided attention, whether it was given to him, or him having to give it to other people.

So typically, birthdays weren’t something worth getting up early for.

This year, however, was different.

He had a painting to finish.

His idea for what to do for today had only came to him a few days ago, during a particularly lengthy editing session of a new video.

A lone paintbrush had been rolling around on his dining table in the background of a video, and PJ had to try and keep editing the video as to keep focus away from it.

This got his ever easily-distracted mind thinking about painting, and whether he should plan a drawing to paint at some point. 

The idea to paint Chris only came to him later the following night, when he found himself lying wide-awake, next to Chris, who was lying on his back, an arm behind his head. He was encased into a deep sleep - _unlike him._

PJ, who was also lying on his back, turned to look at the other man. He noticed how completely still he was, only his chest moving slightly, signalling his slow breathing pattern.

PJ noticed how his hair was almost in his eyes, and how his lips were open slightly, soft snores pouring out. Not often did PJ see Chris so calm, as he was either trying to grab his attention, or frowned at him if PJ looked at him for a long time.

Chris’s look of pure calm had brought him the idea, at some ungodly hour in the morning, to grab the sketchbook and pencil by his bed and draw him.

This late-night idea was the reason why PJ had found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor, tea by his side, drawing out his previous sketch onto a larger canvas.

The sound of quiet, slow music put him in a trance, his drawing of thick lines and sharp curves not interrupted by the sounds of cars and people outside.

PJ had always preferred painting cartoon-like people in his spare time and in projects. He found the freedom to make and create anything quite liberating.

What his idea was for this, however, was to keep it as realistic as he could, so he could really bring out his features.

So as he sat there, second hour into this piece, mixing different colours, a shadow of concern crossed along his mind. 

_This isn’t my usual style_ , he thinks.

_What if I mess it up?_

PJ stays in this frame of mind for a few minutes, looking around the room, not in his zone anymore. His eyes catch a photo on the mantle, kept in a simple black frame.

It was of the two of them at the front of a large statue. They were both signalling a thumbs up to the camera, eyes hidden by pairs of sunglasses. PJ could spot the sunburn present on both of them – Chris’s nose had been red for a week after that picture.

PJ had laughed at him about it. It had been a good trip – it was the first proper trip they had took together – and the first time Chris had admitted his love for him in a genuine way.

_Genuine for him anyway,_ he thinks _, he called me ‘pretty good in bed’ afterwards._

The memory caused PJ to smile to himself, and brings up his mood, making him motivated to carry on – after all, it won’t be too long until Chris wakes up.

-

A couple hours later, PJ stretched out his arms in relief – the painting was finally done.

It was quite simple idea-wise – the painting was of Chris, with a royal blue background.

PJ had drawn a crown atop his head, sitting at an angle, which matched the deep red of the royal robe across his back. Chris also wore a sly smirk on his face; his hands on his hips to show power.

_He’s pretty good at showing power in all aspects,_ PJ considers.

At the bottom of the painting, PJ had written his signature, as well as a small title. As soon as he had taken the paintbrush off the canvas, he could hear the heavy footsteps of Chris.

PJ looked at the clock on the wall for the time.

_11:47AM._

PJ chuckles at how late Chris always is to wake up.

But he doesn’t sit around for much longer – he quickly shoves all his paints and brushes in a nearby drawer, followed by the palette. He considers washing them first, but doesn’t want to waste time before Chris comes in.

PJ also scrabbles for the painting, and places it gently on the table, not wanting it to be smudged or ruined. 

'Morning, - its morning right?’

PJ chuckled at the bleary-eyed man. His hair was stuck out in places, and to his face after lying on his side for so long.

PJ crinkled his nose.

'It is, but its nearly midday – you’ve slept far too much into the day, _birthday boy_.’

Chris smiled in appreciation. Stretching, he notices the painting on the table beside him. He frowns, everything still out of focus as he has yet to put on his glasses. 

'Thanks – what’s that? I can’t see shit at the moment. I’m officially showing my age now, aren’t I?’

'It’s your present - Maybe if you wore your glasses, you would see it, you _old man.’_

The older man left to fetch his glasses, mumbling something about How PJ must have a thing for _older men._

When he returned, PJ was standing there, painting in his hands. The paint was dry, and light reflected off the bright colours. PJ also wore a very sheepish smile as Chris looked at it.

A silence lay.

Chris was struck to silence in sheer awe. He was looking at each little detail of his own painted counterpart. He gently took the painting off PJ, without an exchange of words – none would come out.

He lay the painting aside, and looked straight at PJ, who looked nervous.

The nervousness drained as PJ felt arms wrapped around the crook of his neck, holding on tight.

‘Thank you, PJ. I love you.’

Chris moved to kiss PJ, words not an option for his shocked mind.

PJ, in that moment, with Chris in his arms the painting laying on the table, he felt the most at peace with his life than he had ever been. 

And on the painting, PJ’s title sat in bright white italics.

‘ _My space-king_ ’

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!! :D


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